


Winner's Choice

by exyking



Series: Lamen Kinks [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Loud Laurent, M/M, Mirror Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And now my prize,” Laurent said. “Whatever I wish, was it not?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Previously titled 'the Gift of Words')
> 
> One day I will write something and be happy enough with it that I won't come back several months later to desperately rewrite the whole thing. One day.
> 
> For now, here's the rewrite of a rewrite.
> 
> Without the infallible assistance of @theordinaryvegan, I would long have given up. She makes all this readable. Thank you so much.
> 
> And to @suburbanvvitch, who somehow picks up on all the weird wording errors that, even five read through's later, I still missed. You also have her to thank for the title (my gratitude is endless)
> 
> And to @laurent-ofvere, I hope to someday write something as good as you, but for now thank you for reading this and helping me with my frantic title searching.

It had been a week, an endless, miserable week, with no foreseeable end in sight.

Laurent had been thrown headlong into some wild diplomatic goose chase concerning a vaguely important lord in the northern provinces of Vere, matters in which Damen hadn’t the faintest desire to involve himself. Petty Veretian squabbles over poorly yielding arable land was indeed as mundane as it sounded. He had conceded to Laurent’s superior knowledge in relation to the matter, and the crisis was delegated to him to resolve.

It had since consumed all of his time, what seemed like every waking moment. They had barely spoken in days, much less spent any amount of time together. He came to bed after Damen had retired and left long before he awoke, in what felt like an endless cycle of near misses and gaping absences.

In what was quickly and alarmingly becoming routine, Damen would wake in the morning to see Laurent’s side of the bed slept in but empty, his scent yet lingering on the soft cotton pillows and sheets. On those mornings, he would roll over to burrow himself into them, inhaling Laurent’s scent and allowing himself to feel utterly miserable.

He missed him.

The brief snatches of talk over dinner, where their interactions were very much a publicly viewed affair, and therefore lacking in any real intimacy, was not enough. The few instances that they could engage in dull and drawn out council meetings, when Laurent wasn’t otherwise occupied in audiences with the dissatisfied nobles involved in the affair, was not enough. Watching him galloping around the newly made runs throughout the palace territory from where, by lucky happenstance, they were in partial view of their rooms, was not enough.

He missed the conversations they shared, those endlessly interesting discussions that ran deep into the night. The sound of Laurent’s voice, hard to stop once started. Damen could listen in enraptured silence for hours, whether his words formed inane talk of grain taxes, or of sweeter things.

He, of course, missed the intimacies between them; soft kisses in the morning and those snatched throughout the day, running his hands through Laurent’s endless golden hair, exploring every inch of his body with his fingers, tongue, lips. He missed the taste of him, the smell of him, the way he arched in his pleasure, and the soft gasps he allowed.

He missed falling asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around Laurent’s slighter frame, the scent of him soothing and familiar. He missed waking up to see Laurent lying peacefully beside him, his hair mussed and catching rays of sunlight, reflecting gold. His face was always so peaceful then. It made Damen’s heart ache to think of it.

He had never felt that kind of love before, that kind of longing. Even though Laurent might only be a room away, it felt like half the world.

Damen missed him with every fibre of his being.

He wondered what Laurent would make of that.

There was a sound beyond the doors of the bedchamber then, the soft murmuring of voices muffled by thick wood. It was followed shortly by the sound of a door opening and closing.

Damen sat up.

Laurent knocked only lightly before he entered the room, more out of habit than of intention to forewarn of his entrance. Likely, he thought Damen asleep, given the lateness of the hour.

He wasn’t, of course, but Laurent didn’t seem to notice that yet.

With the door closed softly behind him, Laurent turned and abruptly halted when he saw Damen watching him from his lazy recline on the sofa. He folded his arms and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Damen was too happy to see him to be troubled by it.

"Why is it that you are sitting there, grinning at me like a simpleton, instead of in bed sleeping as you are meant to be?" Laurent asked him, after a moment.

Damen rubbed his eyes, chasing away any lethargy lingering there from the long hours of waiting. "I was thinking."

“Don’t strain yourself.”

Damen grinned at he condescending jibe, familiar enough to him to be taken as endearment in place of offence.

Laurent’s expression remained blasé. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

"I did not know if you would be returning tonight.”

It was true, he hadn't know with surety that Laurent would come back tonight. And yet, Damen had been waiting like this every night until he could no longer stay awake, on the slim chance Laurent might. He hadn't, until now at least.

Laurent spared a moment to give Damen an incredulous look, before he walked over. As he did, he spotted the book Damen had tossed onto the end of the sofa some hours earlier in his frustration, as reading it proved to be beyond the capabilities of his concentration. Thoughts of Laurent had demanded his attention.

“If you insist on treating books like a child, I shan’t let you read them. Tell me, was it too dull, or did you find yourself overwhelmed by the dastardly complexities of…” Laurent plucked the book from where it lay haphazardly sprawled. “One Hundred and One tales of Faery and Folk”.

Laurent laughed as he looked at Damen once more, and Damen was far too enraptured by the melodic sound of his mirth and the wide stretch of his bemused smile to be terribly offended by it.

“Bested by a children’s book. Never fear, Exalted, I shan't tell a soul.” The sly grin that accompanied his words made Damen groan.

“I was not bested by the bloody book…”

“Oh? Then was it your lacking command of written Veretian, or something else entirely that has the mighty King so very  _ distracted _ ?”

He pressed his leg against Damen’s crooked thigh, just a slight pressure, just a sample, one laden with that typical, restrained suggestiveness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Damen smirked.

An idea came to him, spurred on by their playful banter. It had been so long since Damen had had him. Too long. Perhaps...

With a subtle grin, Damen shifted up on the sofa, pulling his thigh away from where it met Laurent’s crooked leg.

Laurent glanced down at the offending limb, a minute flicker of surprise crossing his face. Usually, when Laurent teased an offer, Damen all but fell over himself to satisfy Laurent's every whim. He did not pull away with a coy smile on his face, a slow and deliberate swipe of his tongue over his lips to draw Laurent's attention to his mouth.

What would it take to see that composure crack, he wondered? To watch that carefully constructed mask fall away as Laurent begged for reprieve, in the place of Damen- cries for Damen to touch him, be inside him, hold him and…

“My, my, you are in a mood,” Laurent scoffed, expression calculating.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Haven’t I?”

Laurent turned away and strode over to the dresser, beginning to unhook the tight laces of his jacket before the looking glass there.

Damen followed him over.

“Would you like to know what has the King so… distracted?” he bent to whisper in Laurent’s ear, an intimate gesture that he knew would not startle as his approach had been visible through the reflection of the glass.

“I can imagine it would be any number of mundane things, given that you are more easily distracted than a pup, my lumbering brute,” Laurent said, with absolute calm precision.

“It might be,” Damen conceded, a slight chuckle escaping him. He moved his hands up to reach around Laurent, to untie the laces of his jacket for him. “Or,” he continued, “it could be something very interesting. Something you might find simply  _ fascinating _ .”

Careful not to touch Laurent’s skin, Damen undid the final lace and peeled the jacket down his arms, letting it fall to the floor.

“Is this where I begin to guess?” Laurent asked, eyebrow raised at Damen through the reflection. 

“Let’s say, three chances."

“Three chances?”

“To guess,” Damen confirmed, eyes still locked with Laurent’s. “If you guess right, you win. If you don’t, I win. Simple.”

“Simple,” Laurent echoed, somewhere between amused and resigned. “And what do I win, if I guess correctly?”

“Do anything you like. With me. For the rest of the night.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow. “And if I want to, say, sleep?”

“It’s your night, waste it how you will.” He said it with a shrug but hoped desperately that Laurent didn't actually mean it. Damen might very well go insane if he did.

Laurent’s expression softened into one of amusement.

“And if I win?” Damen continued, running one hand ever so lightly up Laurent’s arm over the material of his thin undershirt.

“What could the King of Akielos possibly want from me?”

“Hmmm... I want to tease you until you're begging for it. I want to give you the gentle affection that you long for until your need is so desperate that you can’t help but moan for me, Laurent. Then, I want to fuck you so hard that the only thought that will enter that beautifully complicated mind, the only sound to leave those perfect lips, will be my name and all the words and noises of pleasure you have denied me.”

Laurent's eyes shot up to meet his from where they had watched Damen's caress of his arms. His expression was an unguarded one, the heat in his eyes was undeniable, as was the quirk of disbelief on his lips, the arch of his eyebrows in challenge.

"I don't believe I have ever heard such vulgar words leave your mouth, Damianos. Tell me, were you reading more than just faery books?"

"I am not an untried boy fumbling with ideas he has read in stories. I know where to touch you where you are most sensitive, where your body will sing for me,” as if to punctuate his point, Damen ran a barely there caress over Laurent's nipple through his shirt, crowding against his back to facilitate the angle. 

Laurent's intake of breath was a little sharper than normal, though that was the only betrayal of his body’s reaction to the touch. Damen had found out some time ago just how sensitive the bud of Laurent's nipples were, how they sung for gentle touches.

"I want to tease you, like you have teased me before, with caresses you can barely feel.” 

His hand, ghosting still over Laurent’s hardening nipples, began to run down his torso.

"I want to peel this shirt off you and kiss every inch of your skin, to tease your nipples with my tongue and teeth until you cry out.” 

He reached the waistband of Laurent's pants. 

“Then, I’d kneel before you, and undo these laces with my teeth, so close to here...” His hands descended further and ghosted across the front of Laurent’s trousers where there was just a hint of a growing bulge. 

Laurent stiffened, but Damen saw his eyes flutter in the glass, hands clenching slightly. His head almost imperceptibly nodded backwards, the side of his face brushing against Damen’s crown of curls.

Damen smiled, pressing closer.

“But I'd stop to take off your boots. I would kiss your ankle, up the inside of your leg… like a slave might, no?” 

Laurent’s fists gave a twitch as his grip tightened. Damen noted that his tenseness was not due to alarm or distaste, but was instead a subtle attempt to stifle any obvious pleasure in Damen's suggestion.

“Then, I would take them off, and you’d be naked before me. Bare for only my eyes to see, desperate with want, with need. For me.” 

At this Laurent’s eyebrow twitched upwards, his eyes coolly challenging Damen’s in the mirror.

“I’d come behind you, so you can see yourself in the glass, see yourself so bare and beautiful. Perfect.” 

Damen’s hands gently gathered the golden tendrils of his hair and swept it aside to lay over one shoulder. He knew that Laurent was particularly sensitive around his neck and loved attention upon his hair, so he was not surprised, though he was pleased, to see Laurent’s stifled shiver.  

“I’d touch you slowly, kiss you here,” Damen bent and pressed only the ghost of a kiss against Laurent’s neck, “and here,” a little higher up.

Laurent tilted his head to the side, his eyes now fluttering closed. It was getting to him, in small ways, unnoticeable to one who was not familiar with his particular brand of response. 

If Damen had known he could do this with only his words and barely there caresses, he would have started long ago.

“But of course, I wouldn't neglect your most attractive feature,” Damen continued, ghosting his fingers along Laurent’s spine over the shirt until it dipped down the curve of his buttocks, and he gripped the soft flesh there. 

Laurent huffed out a breath of laughter at Damen's lewd compliment. 

"My most attractive?" He asked coyly, and Damen was not pleased with how composed he still sounded.

"Of course. You have a glorious arse, Laurent.”

Laurent blushed, actually blushed, and Damen preened with satisfaction.

“But I couldn’t neglect your other beautiful features, numerous as they are.” 

His other hand ran down Laurent’s front to grasp so lightly beneath the tautness of the fabric at Laurent's crotch, evidence of his growing arousal, to where Laurent's sac was. Now, with both his arms around Laurent, Damen felt the jerk of surprise and unstifled pleasure.

It was not a place where Damen usually bestowed his attention, though he knew that Laurent's balls were highly sensitive, and responded well to gentle affections. If it drew more reactions out of Laurent like this, Damen would pay attention to them all the time. The image of Laurent writhing on the bed as Damen touched him, massaging and sucking gently at the soft skin there, was mesmerising. 

Damen nuzzled Laurent's hair, huffing a warm breath against Laurent's exposed skin to whisper more closely in his ear, allowing his voice to drop to a barely there growling whisper. “I wouldn’t touch your cock, not yet. It would be aching for me, hard and throbbing, beautiful and red, but I would only touch you here.” He pressed a little harder against Laurent’s balls, and Laurent didn’t conceal the intake of his breath.

He waited a beat. “But then, I’d miss these too much…” his groping hand returned to ghost gently over Laurent’s nipples. 

Damen flushed with surprised pleasure as Laurent gasped so quietly and let his head drop back onto Damen’s shoulder, pushing himself forward into Damen’s hands.

But, of course, this was all a part of the game.

Damen extricated himself and gently stepped out from Laurent’s slump, before returning to the sofa. Laurent turned and fixed him with a glare, the effect of which was lessened by his darkened eyes, his quickened breath. Or perhaps enhanced by it. Likely not in the way he intended.

“Whenever you’re ready. You know the stakes,”  Damen said.

He allowed a smug smile, knowing he was goading now, toying dangerously. Laurent seemed far from angry, however. In fact, he only looked more  determined than ever. No doubt if he succeeded, Damen would pay for his teasing. He was more than happy to, of course. That was a part of the game too.

“Very well,” Laurent finally said, his voice still completely steady and controlled despite his taut demeanour, before coming to sit on the sofa beside Damen. Though, of course, Laurent being Laurent, he leaned back against the armrest and placed his legs across Damen’s lap. It was a subtle act of possession. From Laurent, it could be interpreted as encouragement.

“First guess,” he began, gazing disinterestedly down at his fingers. “The sudden but inevitable realisation that Councillor Eomedes is more likely to keel over and expire during a council meeting than actually contribute something of value, made you realise that you are far too allowing for incompetence dressed up as geriatric wisdom than is entirely justifiable, as king, therefore distracting you from the comparatively trivial fable of a green haired pixie in a land of mushrooms searching for his lost antelope. Thoroughly perplexing, is it not?”

Damen laughed, taken aback at the abrupt change of tone.

“Eomedes has been on the council longer than you have been alive, Laurent, since my father first claimed the crown.”

“Then it appears complacency is a familial trait.”

Damen placed a hand delicately on Laurent’s trouser clad calf where it sat on his lap. “Interesting guess. Try again,” he said.

“Alright, I guess that…” Laurent trailed off as Damen started, slowly but surely, to run his hand up Laurent’s leg.

“Distracted?” Damen inquired, all innocence.

“You were utterly disturbed by the startlingly vivid mental picture of Nikandros in a short, frilly and obscenely sheer dress-chiton, with his lips painted red like a whore.”

Damen choked on a snort, his hand stilling halfway up Laurent’s inner thigh.

“Last chance,” he said.

Something passed over Laurent's face then, as he looked at Damen. It was only a subtle shift, but it looked like a decision. 

A sly grin split his face, and he removed his legs from Damen’s lap. He wasn’t gone for long. 

Damen held his breath as Laurent rose from the sofa and moved over him, hesitating only for half a moment before he climbed up and straddled Damen’s thighs. From this position, Laurent was slightly above him, gazing down coolly with that calculating, loaded gaze. His hair fell down across Damen’s cheek, tickling softly.

Laurent made a thoughtful sound, tracing his finger along the underside of Damen’s jaw. “I guess that poor King Damianos has been terribly lonely, without his slippery Veretian snake to warm his bed.” 

Laurent’s other hand moved to fist Damen’s hair, drawing his head suddenly back and exposing his throat. Damen felt heat pool to his groin at the sudden sting and shivered at the vulnerability of the position.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Laurent said.

Damen met his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

Laurent smiled down at him in a way that was both incredibly arousing and mildly terrifying. Then, his finger was running down Damen’s throat, over the bob of his Adam’s apple, to the hollow of his collar bone.

Damen shivered again, his breathing heavy.

“I win,” Laurent whispered, before bending his head and licking a stripe up Damen’s neck where his finger had just travelled. 

Damen’s breath hitched. 

He was more than a little hard beneath the thin material of his chiton, and he knew that Laurent knew that too as he ground down deliberately on that spot. Damen let out a noise that was half moan, half whine and Laurent's smile widened.

“And now my prize,” Laurent continued. “Whatever I wish, was it not?”

“Anything,” Damen breathed.

For a moment Laurent looked down at him, his expression soft. He raised a hand to cup Damen’s jaw, the hand in his hair loosening its grip. Then slowly, so frustratingly slowly, he bent his head once more, this time taking Damen’s lips with his own. 

Damen gave everything into the kiss, parting his lips and allowing Laurent in, teasing him with his tongue as he brought his own hands up to frame Laurent’s perfect head, using the leverage to crush their lips together harder.

Damen had always enjoyed a certain level of physicality to his love making, and though he knew Laurent preferred it slow and soft and thorough, he felt him responding in kind. They kissed ferociously for what must have been long minutes but felt all too brief to Damen, who had gone without a taste of Laurent’s lips for a whole week. He almost growled in frustration when Laurent pulled away.

Laurent silenced him by running his thumb along Damen’s now swollen bottom lip. He pressed in, and Damen closed his lips around it, sucking it ever so slightly, his tongue running along the tip.

“I missed you, too,” Laurent said softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Damen ceased his efforts, drawing back to meet Laurent’s open gaze. Damen knew how much that admission meant for him.

He gently cradled Laurent’s head in his large, callused hands, running his thumb along his cheekbone. Laurent closed his eyes, dropping his forehead against Damen's as he pressed into the touch. 

Damen blinked back the emotion that welled within him, knowing that there were other, more productive ways in which Laurent wanted him to reciprocate his sentiments.

“I love you,” Damen whispered.

Laurent opened his eyes. Blinked.

“My honourable barbarian,” he whispered, so quietly that it was barely a sound at all. 

Damen’s heart skipped, and he brought Laurent down to meet his lips again. 

Laurent allowed it for a moment before pulling away, removing himself from Damen’s lap. Damen complained loudly at the separation.

“I won your little game, as I recall. Now it is time for my prize.”

Damen got to his feet, standing before Laurent. Close enough to touch.

“Anything you wish, Laurent,” he said, taking Laurent’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He looked him in the eyes as he pressed the gentlest of kisses there.

“My first wish,” Laurent began, “is that you will undress me in the exact manner as you described.” Then, he blushed, the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

Damen utterly failed at suppressing an endeared smile. “If you wanted that, you could have let me win,” he said.

“Ah, but that would defeat the purpose of the game.”

Damen laughed. “You are impossible,” he said.

The grin Laurent gave him was wicked.

He was led back to the glass with Laurent’s hand in his, pulling him along impatiently. He moved behind him as they had been before, and took a moment to gather Laurent’s long, golden hair and drape it over one shoulder, before he bent and placed a delicate kiss in the crook of his now exposed neck. 

Laurent shivered, and Damen went to work.

True to his word, Damen barely touched him. His caresses were restrained and teasing in their delicacy and as frustrating as he had promised. Laurent denied him any sound, but the quickened quality of his breathing was a better reward than Damen could have hoped for.

When he knelt before Laurent to undo the laces of his trousers, Laurent’s hands, almost subconsciously, gripped his hair. When Damen began to nuzzle him through his trousers, Laurent’s head fell back and his grip tightened. He almost thrust his hips towards Damen’s face, but of course Laurent had far too much control for that. Damen recognised the aborted movement, however. 

He grinned and began to pull at a string of the trousers with his teeth as Laurent watched on with heavy lidded eyes.

When it was undone, Damen saw a glimpse of the hot, flushed skin of Laurent’s cock through the parted material, hard despite the barest of touches. 

Damen stooped even lower to undo one of Laurent’s ridiculously high leather boots, and, in an act akin to a slave’s caress, he kissed the soft, pale skin of Laurent’s ankle and calf. He felt Laurent stiffen above him, recognising the act. It was one thing for Damen to describe it, it was entirely another for him, the King of Akielos, to actually do it.

“Damen,” he whispered. 

Damen repeated the process to the other foot.

With the boots gone, Damen was able to pull down Laurent’s trousers until they pooled around his ankles, and Laurent helpfully stepped out of them. Then, Laurent was naked before him.

It was rare that Damen was so lucky as to kneel before Laurent in this state, his cock mere inches from Damen’s face and willing mouth. Damen wanted nothing more than to bring his head forward across the few inches that separated them and press a kiss against the straining flesh, but Laurent had made it clear what he wanted.

Damen rose and came to stand behind him once more, allowing the golden haired man before him to see his nudity in the glass, while Damen stood fully clothed behind him. Laurent’s eyes met his in the mirror, and Damen’s heart thundered ever louder at the openness of his expression, his unconcealed desire and frustration burning in his pale blue eyes.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Damen whispered, pressing kisses against the shell of his ear. “You are perfection.”

Laurent hummed at the praise, clearly pleased, and Damen smiled against the side of his head, nuzzling the hair there.

“Damen,” Laurent huffed, impatient now. 

Damen’s smile widened impossibly farther, and his large, calloused hand moved to cup the soft, white flesh of Laurent’s arse. 

Laurent’s mouth opened soundlessly, and he pressed back into his hand.

“I could spend years touching you. Decades,” Damen muttered.

“I should hope not. I only have so much self control,” was Laurent’s retort. 

Damen draped his other arm around Laurent to smooth his hand over his muscular chest, pinching a soft, pink nipple between his fingers. He made a soft sound, and Damen didn’t have the heart to preen at that victory, as Laurent turned to press his forehead against Damen’s. One of Laurent’s hands reached behind to where Damen's hand still cupped his arse, to grip Damen’s forearm to steady himself.

Damen began to tease the hardened bud between his fingers, never falling into a pattern that Laurent could predict and anticipate. When satisfied with his work, he switched to the other nipple.

“Damen,” Laurent breathed.

“Yes?” 

Damen kissed his cheek, his nose, his hair, wherever his lips could reach.

The hand cupping his ass trailed around his hip. Laurent pressed his hips forward, but Damen stilled their movement by placing the hand that had teased his nipples against his taut abdomen. 

When he trailed his fingers along the front of Laurent’s thigh, the slighter man almost jerked. His skin was so wonderfully sensitive. The action turned into a half thrust as Damen’s hands closed around the aching flesh of his sac, cruelly neglecting the hard, heated flesh of his cock above it.

“Damen-”

Laurent’s grip on his forearm turned into a vice, while his other hand came up to curl around Damen’s neck and clutch at his hair. He turned his face further against Damen’s and found his lips, claiming them fiercely, even as Damen gently caressed the almost painfully sensitive flesh beneath Laurent’s cock. 

Laurent groaned into his mouth, and a flood of heat travelled through Damen, settling low in his belly and stoking a building desire.

Damen pulled away and turned to look at the reflection before them. Laurent arching against him, arm curled around his neck, his hard cock leaking and twitching with need... Damen was nearly undone by the sight.

"Look at yourself, Laurent,” Damen murmured, kissing the shell of his ear and turning Laurent's face. 

With Damen's hand cradling Laurent's jaw, the latter allowed himself to be turned to see the sight of himself in the mirror. 

He felt no shame as he saw the way his body was flushed with pleasure, at how his nudity contrasted Damen’s clothing, minimal as it was. There was vulnerability in seeing himself this way, laid bare in the honesty of his arousal. Vulnerability in the way Damen’s size engulfed him, how he held Laurent so easily and tightly in those obscenely muscular arms.

The thought of how easily Damen could take and control him brought arousal in it’s own right. It had occurred to him before, of course, but to see it like this was something else entirely.

His eyes found Damen’s, and the answering heat in them was intoxicating.

“Damen,” he uttered.

“I want you,” Damen said. “I need you.”

Laurent returned his head to rest on Damen’s shoulder, allowing their eyes to meet so he that he could look at him and say “ _ please _ ,” with every ounce of his yearning, his need, poured into the single word.

Damen closed his eyes and swore, finally allowing his hand to close around the hot length of Laurent’s cock. 

The sound Laurent made when he finally touched that flesh was earth shattering. 

Damen was in awe that Laurent allowed himself that acquiescence where otherwise he would have silenced it. It was a gift that he had willfully given, a concession against his nature for Damen’s benefit, and perhaps his own.

Damen gave in to his own burning need, and buried his face against Laurent’s shoulder, finally pressing his clothed cock against Laurent’s arse. 

Laurent’s grip tightened in his hair, drawing Damen to his lips once more. 

Damen’s hand began to move slowly up and down his length, his grip firm, hand occasionally twisting around the sensitive head. Laurent’s hips undulated against him, stuttering when Damen teased the tip. His movements rocked him back deliberately into Damen’s crotch, chipping away at Damen’s self control as pleasure built within him. It would have been embarrassing how quickly simple rutting could bring him this near to release, but this was what a week of abstinence and Laurent, beautiful, perfect Laurent, could do to him.

“Stop,” Laurent said suddenly, and Damen immediately withdrew, breaking away from the kiss hurriedly. “I don’t want to come like this.” Laurent's normally controlled voice was straining with the effort of speech.

“How?” Damen asked.

“I want you inside me.”

Damen swore again, his voice guttural in its need, and before Laurent could protest, Damen gathered him up in his arms and carried him, bridal style, over to their bed.

Laurent laughed, a sound so rich and pure that Damen couldn’t keep a smile from his face, despite the very serious intensity of his lust.

He put Laurent down on the bed and watched as he crawled back along the sheets, teasing Damen with his mischievous smile as he reached into their bedside cabinet for the vial of oil they kept there.

Damen almost ripped the pin off of his Chiton in his haste to get it off, and tugged the belt off hastily after. It fell to the floor at his feet in a crumpled heap, and he stepped over it to crawl up the bed over Laurent. 

It seemed almost comical how quickly he was naked after the drawn out effort to unclothe Laurent. 

Laurent pressed the vial into his hands and made to turn over.

“No,” Damen said, stilling him with his hands. “I would see your face, I would hold you.” 

Laurent’s eyes widened and he nodded, spreading his thighs in invitation.

Damen sat back between them on his haunches, unstopping the oil and pouring a generous amount over his fingers. He could be liberal with it; they could buy all the oil vials in the kingdom if they wanted to.

He placed his hand gently over Laurent’s abdomen, either to steady or just to touch, it didn’t matter. 

Laurent’s breath hitched when the tip of Damen’s first finger traced his entrance and allowed a soft grunt when it breached him, brow furrowing and mouth falling open. Damen watched him with bated breath as he slowly worked it in up to the last knuckle. He watched his face as he searched and found the soft bud inside, crooking his finger against it. He had to hold Laurent down with the hand on his abdomen when he gasped and jerked up against Damen’s fingers.

Damen gently teased him open, his ministrations careful and focused on Laurent’s pleasure. He worked in a second finger and brushed occasionally against that place that had Laurent writhing beneath him.

Damen had never heard him be so free with his noises, his moans of pleasure and his ragged, loud breaths. It was a side of Laurent that he was seeing for the first time, a side of Laurent that he was giving to Damen, and Damen treasured it as he did all these versions of the man beneath him. 

He treasured the playful Laurent, who had kicked a tile of a rooftop just for the thrill of a chase. The aloof Laurent, who could separate the emotion within him from objective practicality and do what needed to be done to protect himself and what was his. The kind Laurent, who had taught a magic trick to a child to ease her grief and pain. The selfish Laurent, the obnoxious Laurent, with his incessant demands and sarcastic retorts.

Even his anger, that cold and calculated cruelty that was the manifestation of years of injustices and hurt. The side of Laurent that Damen knew all too well.

But that Laurent was a far cry from the man moaning and writhing with abandon beneath him.

Damen was consumed with desire, with need, and so utterly honoured to be the one who got to do this, so completely in love that he was nearly blinded with it. He took Laurent's pleasure as his own, moans echoing Laurent's, though the latter's was most certainly louder, and Damen had to wonder how deliberate that was. 

Damen's arousal sat untouched and neglected between his legs, but he ignored it in favour of Laurent’s, whose length was flushed red, the tip leaking, looking so deliciously inviting that Damen couldn't help but lean down to take the tip into his eager mouth, swirling his tongue against the slit to better taste his lover. 

“Damen,” Laurent moaned, pushing greedily against Damen’s fingers and, in the same motion, pushing himself slightly deeper into Damen's mouth. 

Damen hummed around him, hand pressing down on Laurent’s abdomen to still him, pleased at how Laurent obeyed that touch and shuddered against the sensation. 

It was taking every ounce of control he possessed not to just replace fingers with cock and enter that tight, slick heat that instant. But he couldn’t hurt Laurent, that was one thing he would never allow, no matter how bad the need. So, he continued his preparation, to Laurent’s ire.

“I’m ready, Damen,” Laurent hissed, his hands reaching above his head to clutch at the headboard.

“One more,” Damen insisted, pulling his mouth away and teasing the tight rim of Laurent’s hole with the tip of his third finger.

Laurent had moaned, turning his head into his forearm and biting the delicate flesh there.

He worked in the third finger to the last knuckle, brushing once more against that knot within him. The sound Laurent made was obscene.

“Fuck me, Damen,” he begged. 

“What was that?” Damen asked around a grin.

“Fuck me, you ridiculous, ginormous, monstrous beast.”

“I think you’re missing something there.”

“If you don’t put your cock in me this instant Damianos, I swear I will-” 

He never finished his threat, as Damen withdrew his fingers, causing him to arch against the loss with a sharp noise, and began to pour oil once more over his hand. Damen stroked his own aching cock, closing his eyes to fight against the building pleasure. He didn’t want to spend too soon, he wanted to find his release buried deep inside Laurent, clutching him so tightly he could barely breathe.

Damen leant down over him then, one hand propping himself up beside Laurent’s head, the other guiding his length to the entrance of Laurent’s welcoming heat. Laurent’s legs clutched him tightly, his calves wrapping around Damen’s hips, drawing him closer. 

But he didn’t push in. His tip rested heavily against Laurent’s hole, tantalisingly close to what Laurent desperately wanted.

“Ask me again,” he growled.

Laurent’s eyes widened at the change in his demeanour. 

His surprise quickly turned into delight. 

“Fuck me,” he breathed.

“Laurent-”

“ _ Please _ .”

Damen groaned at the utterance of that word, and finally,  _ finally _ , began to push in.

Laurent flung his head back and let out a sound Damen had never heard allowed from him before. A loud, drawn out whimper that was made not in pain, but in such an abandon of pleasure that Damen had to draw on all the self control he could find to keep from burying himself within his tight heat immediately. He wanted to draw this out, to make Laurent feel every inch of him as he slid inside, to drive him mad with need, to hear a plethora of curses and moans such as were so rare from Laurent that each was precious.

“Damen,  _ please _ ,” he begged again. His calves clutched tightly at Damen’s hips, his hands left the headboard to reach down and grip Damen's arse, to try to drive Damen in deeper. 

Damen merely caught them in the hand now free from his cock, and pinned them to the mattress above Laurent’s head. 

Laurent jerked his hands against this new predicament, more out of frustration than anything. He still seemed determined to get his hands on Damen's arse, and he wriggled his hips to try to throw Damen off, accidentally nudging him deeper inside in his faux struggle.

Eventually he slumped down into the mattress, breathing heavily.

“Ok?” Damen asked, wanting to make certain he wasn’t overstepping his bounds in this new territory, though he was confident, if Laurent’s cock leaking a mess all over was anything to go by, that Laurent was enjoying this as much, if not more, than he was.

Laurent’s eyes glinted mischievously. “Hold me down and plow me with your cock, you brute. I want you to make me scream, I want to be able to feel you inside me for  _ days,  _ I-” He trailed off on a moan as Damen, retaking the upper hand, pushed further inside him. 

He bit his lip, closing his eyes, and savoured how incredible it felt to be inside Laurent, to be allowed to share such unbelievable pleasure with him. When he finally slid home, resting fully inside Laurent, buried to the hilt, Damen groaned again, and Laurent was certainly vocal about his own approval.

He gave Laurent a moment to adjust, because despite the pleasantness of the stretch there was always a need for a moment to adjust, lest it become painful. 

Finally, impatience winning over caution, Laurent hissed, “I won your game, so move.” His legs tightened around Damen. “Fuck me,” he demanded.

So, Damen did.

He set a slow pace at first, drawing all the way out before driving slowly back in, pressing Laurent’s hands hard down into the mattress with his shifting weight. It was almost too much to ask of Damen's self control, and Laurent didn't help when he clenched around him, causing Damen’s hips to stutter, pressing him roughly inside to Laurent’s apparent joy.

Apparently the man who could just as easily come from barely there caresses and soft kisses also liked it hard and rough.

Damen could oblige him that.

His pace gradually quickened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The sound of his hips slapping against the backs of Laurent’s thighs contended with their moans in a cacophony of obscenities, loud enough that Damen had no doubt that the guards outside his door could hear everything. Damen hadn’t cared about anything less in his entire life. 

He changed the angle, bending Laurent almost in half as he held his thighs open and pushed  _ deeper _ .

Laurent cursed, and groans were driven out of him, gradually increasing in pitch and volume with every punishing thrust of Damen inside him.

Too soon, Laurent was close. His eyes closed, brow furrowed, and his mouth fell open around the desperate sounds he made. Damen angled his hips just so, searching for that place that he knew would push Laurent over the edge. He knew immediately that he had found it when Laurent jerked wildly beneath him, clenching down on Damen's cock and almost shouting with pleasure.

“Oh-oh fuck- oh fuck Damen-  _ please, _ ” he begged, his voice hitching as Damen drove inside him again, pushing him up the bed with the force.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Look at you. Split open on my cock, begging for it. So beautiful. So perfect. All mine.” Damen barely knew what he was saying. Laurent whimpered however, in response to his words, his hands straining against Damen’s grip.

“You like this? Hmm? You want me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes. _ Yes. _ I need-I need-” He drove into Laurent’s prostate, and whatever he had intended to say was lost amidst his wail.

“Please- please, Damen I need you to- touch me, please,” he somehow managed.

“No,” Damen growled. “I want you to come just like this, just with me inside you.” His hips stuttered, the rhythm changing, faster now. “I want you to come on my cock, Laurent.” 

Laurent keened at that, the loudest sound he had made yet.

Damen almost came from that alone.

“Come for me, Laurent,” he pleaded, supporting his weight on the hand that held Laurent’s and bringing the other up to hold his face in his palm, so gentle in contrast to the thrust of his hips. “Please.”

Laurent did.

He shattered, his back arching off the bed and crushing Damen in the vice of his thighs. He made a broken noise, wrecked with pleasure, and his passage clenched in flutters so tight that it took only one, two, three more thrusts before Damen pressed himself in as deep as he could, and came.

He came so hard that his vision whitened and his head spun. His cry was so loud he was sure half the palace had heard it. 

When it was over, he released his hold of Laurent’s hands, and collapsed on top of him, heart thundering in his chest. He clutched him desperately, holding him as tightly as he could without hurting him, still buried inside.

They lay like that for an eternity, just breathing in each other’s arms. It had been so long since Damen had held him like this. Only a week, perhaps, but a week far longer than he could stand. 

Eventually, Laurent pushed him onto his back and escaped from under his utterly boneless weight. He crawled over onto to the side of the bed and Damen heard the soft hiss as he stood, and watched him going over to fetch a cloth and bowl of fresh water to clean himself up with. Damen allowed his eyes to close as he lingered in the last clutches of bliss.

A short while later, Damen felt the bed dip as Laurent came back to sit beside him, and felt the soft caress of the wet cloth as Laurent cleaned him up, too. 

Damen’s heart swelled at the gesture.

“You are amazing,” he said, aware that he sounded utterly incognisant. 

Laurent only smiled in response, a small twitch of his lips that seemed almost accidental. “Aren’t you a just master of words,” he said.

“No,” Damen sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “That’s you.”

There was a silence that fell then, as Laurent placed the bowl and cloth on the side table, that seemed heavier than before. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?” Damen asked.

“No,” Laurent said. “You surprised me.” 

Damen reached for him, grabbing the hand closest to him and holding it tightly. He rolled onto his side, so that he could prop his head up and look at Laurent, who seemed unable to meet his gaze.

“What is it?” Damen asked.

Laurent didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“It’s never been like that,” he finally said, so quiet. “I’ve never…” he shook his head.

“Tell me.”

“What you said. What you did. I didn’t know it could be like that. I didn’t know that I could enjoy it so much.”

“Does it bother you?” Damen asked, concerned.

“No,” Laurent huffed out a breath of laughter. “I’m finished with apologising for pleasure. I simply underestimated you. What you do to me. I thought I knew myself, I thought I knew what I liked, what I wanted- what I didn't. But, it seems, I know nothing.”

Damen looked at him, taking him in in all his flushed, beautiful glory. The timidness of his confession was sobering, even as it warmed something inside him. To hear that Laurent was ever more at ease in his body, in the pleasure he shared with Damen, in knowing that he enjoyed what existed between them, what could exist, what they had yet to discover, was exciting. 

There was so much that Damen wanted to show him, if he allowed it.

Laurent bent down and pressed his lips against Damen’s, one hand cradling his face almost delicately. “You are changing everything,” he said. “I can’t think around you. I can’t anticipate what you will do to me. I can’t defend against it.”

“You know I would never hurt you,” Damen insisted, gripping Laurent’s hand tighter.

“I know,” Laurent said, shaking his head. “That is not what I meant.”

“Then what?”

“I love you so much that I cannot begin to fathom it- that you can do these things that I could never stand before, and that I would love them so much.” 

He pressed his forehead against Damen’s.

Damen's heart swelled at least two sizes larger and threatened to break his ribs apart. Laurent had never said such words to him before; his 'I love you's' were infrequent, but all the more meaningful for it- and yet they were never so steeped in vulnerability.

It was a lot for a man like him to say, all at once.

“There is more, so much more that I can show you. There is a world of pleasure out there that we can discover, together.”

Laurent smoothed a hand down his face. “I forget how much more experienced you are than I,” he said.

“Don’t be so certain, there are many things even I haven’t had the want or means to do before.”

Laurent smiled softly, awfully fond, and gave Damen the smallest nod of his head. Damen felt lighter than air as he grinned and pulled Laurent down, so that their bodies were flush against each other, and caressed his cheek with his thumb.

“We have to make a list, of the things we want to try and the things we don’t,” he said.

“Are you really going to do this now?” Laurent asked incredulously.

“Of course, I am eager to begin.”

Laurent laughed. “That is immediately apparent. Don’t go getting any huge ideas, I thought we could start with something small.”

“Small?”

“Yes. I believe I have yet to take you for myself.”

Damen blinked, before he blushed. “I, well, I- I-”

Laurent’s laugh grew at Damen’s boyish nerves. “Don’t tell me I’ll be the first to have you.”

“I’m a prince,” Damen said. “It just isn’t done.”

“King,” Laurent corrected. “What then, do you suppose, we should call this?”

Damen blinked again, as the meaning of Laurent’s words set in. Then, mortified, he scrambled to fix it. “I didn’t mean, not that you- not that-”

Laurent silenced him with the press of his lips. “Hush, I shall forego offence for now, but you’ll have to make it up to me later.”

Damen groaned. “What manner of punishment am I to endure?”

Laurent’s grin was wicked.

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and find out.”

 


	2. About the update

Hello!

You may be wondering what this update is all about, and it is simply because a lot of this story has changed, most obviously the title.

This story used to be called 'The Gift of Words', and was one of the first ever stories I published on here. A lot about my style of writing, and my overall skill as a writer has changed, however, since it's original publication, and I felt like now was a good time to go back over it and spruce it up a bit.

It's less long winded now, the overarching 'words' theme has been axed, and there's a stronger focus on the kink and the emerging exploration of sexual themes outside of vanilla. I also like to think it segues fuckin awesomely into 'Relinquishing Control' but that's just me.

Please, let me know what you think of this new version! I'm much happier with it, and your thoughts would be incredibly appreciated.

Thanks guys xx

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who prefers the old version, i'm sorry, but I couldn't bear it. I like to think my story telling abilities have improved since last June, so hopefully you like this one better. If not, and you're super mad that the old one has vanished into the void, I suppose you can message me on tumblr @exyking and i'll send you the original copy. 
> 
> Otherwise, it's best forgotten.


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